Poker Face

Chapter 72 - Act Three: The Trapped Rabbit

By late morning the next day, the tents littering the lawn of the Hilltop were cleared away and Aven was taken back to stay in the medical trailer after almost getting in a fist fight with Rosita. The woman had approached her, accusing her of lying to Maggie and Rick about her relationship with Negan, implying that she'd been a willful participant all along. Of course, Aven had lied and it probably wasn't in her best interest to act out against the accusation, but just Rosita's face had her seeing red. This woman nearly took her life and she was going to pay as soon as Aven had the upper hand again. But Jesus stepped in and pulled Aven away, flanked by Rick who was somehow even more brooding than usual but didn't seem to have the emotional energy to intervene.

In the medical room, Aven was introduced to a thin, kind-eyed young Arab American man named Siddiq who offered to take a look at the stitches in her neck when she expressed annoyance over them.

"You said this happened a week ago?" Siddiq asked, examining the stitches closely.

"A little over a week, yeah," Aven replied with a nod.

"I'd say you're a fast healer. The stitches are absorbing really well."

"Absorbing?" Aven asked. "I don't need to get them taken out?"

"No, they'll go away on their own. The doctor at the Sanctuary didn't tell you that?"

"He probably told Negan, who neglected to tell me," she mumbled. Not exactly the truth, but Negan had shooed Carson away, insisting he'd relay all the important information to Aven, which he hadn't properly done since he was, in fact, not a doctor. Carson probably should have been smarter than to leave it at that, but doing the best job he could was difficult with his brother's murderer around and the constant threat of death upon disobeying him. Just then, the door opened and Rick stepped up into the trailer, his back turned as he spoke with someone outside.

"Then don't come," he told the person. "We need her help. Stay away from her." The words surprised Aven, who correctly assumed that he was talking to Rosita. They do need my help, she thought triumphantly to herself. Rick was cold, a borderline mass-murderer, but protecting Aven right now was in his best interest, or so he thought. It wasn't protection for a favorable reason, but protection nonetheless. He let the door shut behind him and turned to Jesus. "Bring her to the meeting." He glanced at Aven and held her gaze for a moment, his expression flat and unreadable, before he disappeared back out the door.

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Later that morning, Aven was brought up to the room she'd snooped around the night before, Gregory's old office where Maggie now sat behind the desk surrounded by Rick, Daryl, Michonne a few vaguely familiar faces from Alexandria (Tara, Aaron, and Tobin), a couple completely unfamiliar faces, and Ezekiel and one of his men, Richard. By now, Aven had easily figured out that the Hilltop was housing refugees from Alexandria and the Kingdom, but seeing them all there together was unnerving. She felt like an Ally soldier amongst a party of Axis leaders, or at least that's the connection she made in her mind as she entered the room to find them planning their war against Negan.

I did once equate Negan to Hitler, she thought to herself. Maybe we're not the Allies. It was only a careless passing thought though; she knew all along no one on either side was the "good guy." There were just the bad and the worse. Or sometimes, just two different kinds of worse.

Her few days at the Hilltop might have been enjoyable if she were there of her own volition. The scenery and general feel of the settlement was cheerier and brighter than the Sanctuary and the difference in demeanor between the people working at either compound was staggering. But Aven had never been blind to Negan's mistakes in leadership; she knew from day one the reality of the place she chose to stay. The way Negan ran things never sat right with her and she had her moments of guilt and pity over the people working below her, but none of that negativity mattered at the end of the day when she settled down with the man she loved. It mattered to the suffering workers, but not to her. At least not enough to even begin to sway her loyalty. She had plenty of empathy when it suited her, when she needed to read someone or get something from them, but she was able to turn it off when the reward for tolerating Negan's bullshit was a happiness and acceptance she'd never felt and never would have expected to feel, especially not in this world.